In Her Secret Fantasy Read online

  She should just enjoy the feeling, the pleasurable tingles of sexual chemistry, the warmth of at least imagining she had the attention of an attractive and intriguing man. She’d only met him three times. She was still well in control and she really needed to keep it that way. In her heart, she knew she wasn’t ready for a relationship. Not with a man like Aidan. Maybe someone less…physical, who’d be kind to her, and gentle, take things slowly. Aidan was leaving soon. If anything was to happen between them, it couldn’t be slow. And so, nothing could happen.

  And nothing would. She was reading far too much into the beach encounter with a bloke drunk on New Year libations and childhood memories. This was just a stage for her, a little push towards normality. She was thinking again about men, relationships, sex. And maybe, the next time she accompanied the lads to Fort William, she wouldn’t cold-shoulder every other man who spoke to her. With Glenn and the boys, she’d be safe.

  It would, she thought, drying herself a little more slowly, be nice to have a boyfriend again. Someone who cared, someone to be close to, even if just for a little while. Unbidden, she remembered again the touch of Aidan’s cold fingers on her face, the gentle pressure of his lips on her cheek while his big, strong body stood tantalizingly close.

  Would a hug have killed her? She wished she’d hugged him. He’d have felt good in her arms, just for an instant.

  Stick to the selkie fantasy, she advised herself wryly. Seals in the water, swimming, playing, until one emerged, rising into a tall, gorgeous man, the sea water cascading off his fit body, running in caressing rivers over his sculpted muscles and his impressive semi-erection as he walked across the sand towards her and took her in his powerful arms.

  Chrissy closed her eyes, imagining that erection pressing into her hip, exciting, arousing. She’d taste salt on his skin as she licked and kissed. His breath would come faster, due to wanting her so much. Her nipples would rub against his naked chest, making her purr with pleasure and desire. She’d look up at him, let him see her need, part her lips enticingly…

  He had a face now, as he bent his head to kiss her mouth. He had Aidan’s face.

  “Stop it, Chrissy,” she whispered angrily and threw the towel onto the floor. “Enough torture for one day. Do your damned job.”

  So she did, spending the morning in her office on various admin tasks. She left the door open as she usually did, both to encourage anyone who needed to talk to her and to let her keep an eye on the comings and goings from the living room and kitchen. In this way, she knew who was in the house, and could gauge the friendships and relationships that made all the difference in a community like this.

  Most of the guys liked their own space, but companionship was important too. She didn’t want any excessive loners or pariahs. Since the project had started up, everyone had got along pretty well, but these had been guys Glenn had known well either in prison or as a kid. The new guys who’d arrived over the last few days had applied—apart from Frog, whom she had to remember to call Thierry, and who’d been another of Glenn’s friends inside.

  He passed by her door once, with Jim picking his brains about French recipes. Chrissy smiled. They walked outside together, leaving the front door wide open as usual, and she heard their feet crunch on the frost-hardened ground. She glanced towards the window, saw them pause for a quick word with Gerry, one of the new guys, who’d ambled round from the side of the house. Jim pointed towards the river, and then the village, and Gerry walked on. Exploring.

  Chrissy returned to her plans. A bit later, she saw Glenn, Izzy and Jack walking towards the front door with Screw the dog, who’d been renamed Rover for Jack’s benefit. That made Chrissy smile too. No one deserved this happiness more than Glenn.

  She stood up and went into the kitchen to make more coffee. Archie was there, arguing about football with Nick. Although they both got out of her way, neither of them stopped talking. This was good too.

  She returned to her office and the knotty problem of evening workshop schedules. But she was right, she’d cracked it. She printed off the timetable and the leaflet ready to show to the others for approval, and then set about working out exactly how much they could afford to offer Dan MacDonald to teach a few of the guys how to grow vegetables on a larger scale than the haphazard kitchen garden.

  Again footsteps outside distracted her, but this time it wasn’t any of the residents. It was Louise and Aidan.

  Louise looked elfin and pretty with a knitted hat pulled over her blond locks, her cheeks pink from the cold and the exertion of walking up the hill. Aidan, although he took Chrissy’s breath away just by being there, didn’t seem remotely out of breath. He just looked curious, his eyes scanning the house and surrounding grounds as he strolled towards the front door. He wore slightly battered blue jeans and a black leather jacket over a grey hoodie—an odd, rumpled combination that shouldn’t have looked good and did. On him, at least.

  Chrissy’s stomach somersaulted. What the hell were they doing here? She could count the number of times Louise had been on one hand, and they’d all been by invitation. Socializing was done largely in the village. And Aidan…Aidan had all a policeman’s suspicions.

  Louise’s voice shouted, “Hello?” through the front door, and Chrissy pulled herself together, jumping up and crossing the room to the hall with a cheerful greeting on her lips.

  “Come in!” she said brightly. “Damn, it’s cold. These guys never shut the door.” She pushed the door closed, smiling still at Louise because that was easier. “You’re just in time for coffee.”

  “I hear it’s always coffee time! We’ve come to see Izzy, actually, and she said I should drag you up with us because you shouldn’t be working today.”

  “I’m only pottering,” Chrissy said, risking a quick glance at Aidan. She needn’t have worried. His attention was on the house, on Dougie and Charlie slouched in front of the television in the living room. Relief fought with niggling disappointment. “You won’t have seen the new flat in all its glory? Come on.”

  She led the way upstairs, wishing she could see Aidan’s reaction to the house, to what they’d done with it. Rab had sanded and varnished the whole staircase and although there was, as yet, no carpet to add graciousness, it looked pretty fabulous to Chrissy. Music drifted out of a couple of the open bedroom doors, but on the whole, the house was quiet.

  “Peaceful,” Louise observed.

  “Holiday,” Chrissy said, trying to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. “Come up this time tomorrow and we’ll be a hive of activity.”

  “Doing what?” Aidan asked.

  “You should show him around, Chrissy,” Louise advised. “He thinks the guys just lie around extorting money from charities.”

  “No, that’s my job,” Chrissy said. “The boys do the real work.” She walked along the hall, past the locked door of what had once been Glenn’s bedroom, to the attic door. Charlie had made them a nameplate for Christmas, a picture of the sea with the names Glenn, Izzy and Jack inscribed.

  “Nice touch,” Louise said while Chrissy rapped on the door.

  “I thought so. Charlie made it. Now he’s making one for Jack’s bedroom.”

  A clatter on the stairs preceded the opening door and Jack grinned at them while Screw bounded down the stairs, barking.

  “Hello!” Jack greeted them. “Mum! It’s Louise and Chrissy and the man!”

  “Aidan,” Louise whispered to him, and Jack grinned at “the man” without noticeable repentance.

  Appearing at the top of the stairs, Izzy called hello and gestured eagerly for them to come up. “Sorry, I was rescuing a cake from the oven,” she said.

  “Ah, cake and coffee,” Louise said appreciatively as they climbed.

  “Well, no, not unless you like your cake—ah—compact. And black. Even Rover ignored the bit I dropped on the floor.”

  “Can’t be a domestic goddess all the time,” Chrissy sympathized.

  “Any of the time would be good. I think I�
��ll leave the baking to Jim.”

  By then, they’d reached the top of the stairs and the living room.

  “Oh wow,” Louise said. “Izzy, this is beautiful! Show me everything!”

  “I can make the coffee, if you like,” Chrissy volunteered. “Louise’ll burst if you make her wait.”

  For some reason, that brought Aidan’s gaze to her face. Amused, perhaps. Or just curious as to the nature of her friendship with his sister. She didn’t look at him to find out.

  “Thanks, Chrissy,” Izzy said. “Not sure where Glenn is.”

  Chrissy made her escape to the kitchen, filling the kettle, finding the large cafetiere and heaping in the ground coffee. She could hear Louise’s impressed exclamations and Jack’s proud voice as he showed off his bedroom. Chrissy smiled and took a bottle of milk from the fridge.

  She was just pouring the boiled water over the coffee when a shadow in the doorway caused her to glance over her shoulder. Her heart lurched. Aidan stood there, leaning one broad shoulder against the doorframe.

  “Need a hand?” he offered.

  “If you’re bored with interior design, you can carry the tray,” she said lightly, laying down the kettle and fitting the lid to the cafetiere.

  “Not bored—impressed, actually. Like most of the village, I saw the house when it went on the market ten years ago. The attics were a mess. I’d never have imagined you could turn them into this.”

  “Glenn’s vision, Izzy’s taste.” Chrissy added the sugar bowl to the tray and tracked down the mugs.

  “Whose money?” Aidan asked.

  Chrissy frowned. “The little old lady’s. The one the guys mugged in Ardknocken High Street.”

  Aidan didn’t even smile. “I’m serious. I know how Brody bought this house and what it cost him. How come the co-operative makes enough money for a major alteration like this?”

  Bastard. Total bastard. She hadn’t even seen it coming. Chrissy set down the last mug and gazed deliberately into his face. “It’s none of your business.”

  “True. But you’re the one who insists everything’s on the level here.”

  Chrissy stared a moment longer in silence. Anger—and hurt because she’d imagined they’d made a connection on New Year’s night—urged her to tell him nothing. But Glenn had made no secret about this, and Aidan was an ex-cop. He could start an unwelcome investigation with one word, and although there was nothing to hide, the upheaval would set the project back weeks or even months. And reverse the gradual erosion of the village suspicions.

  She curled her lip. “Glenn earned a large fee for music he wrote for one of the big computer game companies. They commissioned some more, with a substantial advance. Even paying his share to the co-operative, he had enough to pay for this outright. Lewis Dunn in the village did the building work. He had some cheap extra labour from his son and friends. If you ask, Lewis might show you his books. Rab and the others put in some work for free. From friendship, if you understand the word. Rab renovated the dining table and the wardrobes. Most of the furniture’s second hand. I don’t know if Izzy kept her receipts. You want any further information, Officer, you’ll have to go the horse’s mouth.”

  Aidan’s face remained impassive, although his eyes did search hers continuously. “I’ve made you angry,” he observed at last.

  “I hadn’t realized you were a detective,” she spat.

  A smile flickered across his face. “You know I only voiced what most of the village has been wondering. I hear you meet all their suspicions with calm and patient friendliness. What’s so different about me?”

  Her lips parted without permission, and she snapped them closed again. She’d no idea how to answer that. No idea why his question made her so bloody furious.

  He was here to snoop, not to see her.

  Jesus, what was the matter with her?

  “Maybe,” she snapped, “because you’re abusing a man’s hospitality to cast aspersions and pry.”

  His eyebrows flew up. Something changed in his eyes, but she didn’t hang around to see. Dragging her gaze free at last, she grabbed up the tray.

  He moved into the kitchen to meet her. “Let me—”

  Brought up short by the obstacle of his body, she halted. “Fuck off,” she said between her teeth and brushed past him. At the last moment, she made the mistake of glaring up at his face, and her anger fell away like a dropped coat.

  There was no annoyance in his eyes, no amusement or even apology. Just a weird, wintry desperation, something haunted, troubled to the point of pain. More than his smile was broken. And somehow, she’d reminded him.

  His lashes shut down. He stood aside, and the best thing she could do for either of them was get the hell out of the kitchen.

  Izzy and Louise were jabbering in the living room once more.

  “Oh, I haven’t seen the kitchen yet!” Louise exclaimed.

  “A treat for last,” Chrissy said inanely, setting down the tray.

  “Where’s Aidan?”

  Before Chrissy was obliged to think of an answer, Jack said, “He’s going downstairs with Glenn.”

  “Drat him,” Louise said. “That was the other reason we came, Izzy. You know you’ve paid for the B & B flat until the end of the year?”

  “It’s past the end of the year,” Izzy acknowledged, plunging the cafetiere.

  “I’ll keep it for you, no bother,” Louise said. “But if you don’t want it, Aidan can stay there while he’s here. He’s used to his own space, and if we get any guests…”

  “No, that’s fine,” Izzy said so quickly that Chrissy guessed she’d been keeping it on only to support Louise, not because she’d any doubts about her relationship with Glenn. But Izzy wasn’t wealthy either.

  Chrissy drew in her breath and faced Louise. “Is Aidan okay?”

  The smile died on Louise’s lips. She shook her head. “No. No, I don’t think he is.”

  “What’s wrong?” Izzy asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m guessing work, but he doesn’t talk about it. I only knew he’d left the police when he arrived on Hogmanay. He didn’t even tell me he was going abroad until it came up on New Year’s night.”

  “It’s a difficult job,” Chrissy said awkwardly. “It can get to you. Maybe he needs to talk to someone.”

  Louise shook her head again. “I doubt he will. He never talked about stuff that bothered him, even when he was a kid. Bottled it all up and dealt with it alone. On the boat, usually. He used to disappear for days when he was a teenager—drove my parents nuts.” She shrugged. “Sooner he gets that boat back in the water, the better he’ll be.”

  It shouldn’t have bothered him that he’d alienated Chrissy. Abusing some gangster’s hospitality was hardly something he’d break his heart over either—he’d done the same and worse many times before—and yet Chrissy’s words seemed to throw a blanket of confusion over him, reminding him of old customs and civilities, the old life that had been Aidan Grieve’s. But he wasn’t that kid anymore, he was a cop, righting wrongs he no longer understood. Chrissy wasn’t the bad guy here. Hell, even Brody had committed no obvious crime since getting out. And yet here Aidan was, pursuing them, threatening, the bad guy… “Fuck off.”

  Somehow, he found himself on the attic stairs, and halted. Glenn Brody sat on a step near the top, not looking at him, but still, Aidan was sure, aware of his position and every movement.

  “Chrissy told you to fuck off,” Brody said with deceptive casualness.

  “Behold me—er—fucking off.” Brody must have been out here, listening, waiting to see if he needed to intervene. Shame surged up from Aidan’s toes. The girl was brave, but she’d suffered too much already. He’d known that in his heart from their first encounter.

  “What’d you do?” Brody asked.

  Aidan stirred. “I asked too many questions about you.”

  “Aye, that’d do it.” Brody turned his head and glanced up at him. “You should ask me. If you’ve got any more.”
/>   Aidan swallowed, grabbing back what he could of himself, still thinking as he was trained to.

  “I have, as it happens. My sister told me about your fishing trip plans, with your guests staying at the B & B. What sort of guests would they be?”

  “Whoever pays. I won’t vet them.” To Aidan’s surprise, Brody indicated the step beside him. “On the other hand, I still know names to avoid. I won’t be welcoming known criminals. It’s not a cover-up for gangland conventions of my old pals.”

  Aidan stepped down and lowered himself to sit beside Brody. “Thanks for your honesty.”

  “You’re looking out for your family. That’s fair enough in anyone’s book.” Brody’s hard eyes scanned his face. “Still, you’ve got me flummoxed. I can spot the polis pretty much infallibly within a hundred yards. Most people like me can. But I never clocked you.”

  Aidan’s lips twisted. “Maybe I wasn’t a very good polis.”

  “Maybe. But I doubt that.” Brody glanced down at his hands which were hanging loosely between his knees. Big, scarred hands that had done some damage in their time and still could. Brody didn’t look as if the sight of them pleased him much. “You know what happened to Chrissy.”

  Aidan thought about lying in order to learn more. What Brody thought had happened, what Chrissy had told him. But all his instincts, wherever they came from, urged the truth at this point. He nodded.

  Brody said, “We don’t crowd her. We don’t loom or threaten or play arm-wrestling with her.”

  Aidan gazed at the scarred, averted face and wasn’t even surprised. He couldn’t pretend to know who were the good guys and who the bad. But it seemed he still knew the good things.

  When Brody turned to meet his gaze, Aidan let his lips quirk. “Looking after your family?”

  Brody nodded once.

  “She’s in no danger from me,” Aidan said quietly. “She never was.”

  Brody stood as if he’d got what he’d come for and had no more reason to hang around. “Aye, well, it’s easy to piss Chrissy off. I should know.”